


not to mention all the things you'd never say

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-12
Updated: 2007-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:54:32
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Short interlude in the new otp 'verse. This falls almost directly after It's Shoot First, Apologize Later but before the next installment.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** not to mention all the things you'd never say   
**Pairing:** SV!Jensen/GG!Jared  
**Rating/Word Count:** PG13; 1, 738  
**Summary:** Short interlude in the new otp ‘verse.  
**Notes:** This serves as something of a lost moment in between fics, so there’s no real porn to speak of. *coff* Sorry! But there _are_ hot boys crushing on each other. Also, for those of you keeping up, this falls almost directly after It’s Shoot First, Apologize Later but before the next installment. So there’s pretty much nothing but character development here.   
  
  
  
  
_Jared, we should get together, have coffee, try to y'know, get along a little._  
  
Every age-old warning about “famous last words” echoes through Jared’s head as he stands outside of the artsy little café in downtown Vancouver. He can see Jensen inside, seated at one of the round tables and sipping from a thick blue mug, checking his watch every few minutes.  
  
Jared shoves his hands deep down in his pockets and blows out a tired breath when Jensen looks up again as a shadow falls across his table, ready smile fading when it turns out to be just another barista. Jared doesn’t know why he agreed to this, why he’d even answered the phone after reading the caller ID. Except for that he’s apparently a masochist. And because Jensen’s right. They _do_ need to try to get along, for the sake of the show and everyone involved.  
  
Doesn’t mean they have to kiss and make up, this is just a temporary ceasefire. Not that there’s really any kind of firing going on – literally or figuratively – but Jared can’t think of a better analogy for what he and Jensen are about to do. _Is_ there even a term for putting months of hot fucking and twisted emotions behind you so you can work with someone day in and day out without the entire world crumbling around your shoulders?  
  
Yeah, he’s being melodramatic, maybe, but it’s hard to care when his palms are cold and clammy at the prospect of going in there and looking Jensen in the eye like nothing ever happened. Like they’d been nothing to each other.  
  
He can do it. He just needs another minute.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
If Jared walked across the street and into the bookstore, picked up a copy of Webster’s dictionary and thumbed through it until he got to the entry for “awkward”, he’s pretty damn sure there’d be a color-photo spread of him and Jensen right now– sitting across from each other in absolute silence.  
  
Well, that’s not _entirely_ true. There’s the rhythmic _thump-thump-thump_ of his fingertips against the table as he looks everywhere but at the person he came to see. It doesn’t make it any easier that Jensen hasn’t stopped staring at him since he sat down.  
  
Jared clears his throat, stills his fingers, glances Jensen’s way again. Jensen smiles a little, a quicksilver flash of teeth that provokes a sharp ache in Jared’s chest. He covers it up with an answering grin. “Um…so.”  
  
“I’m glad you came.” Jensen’s voice is a study in careful, with just a hint of husk rounding and softening the vowels. He lets out a sheepish laugh, looks down at his coffee. “I…wasn’t really sure you would.”  
  
“Yeah, I was watching you from outside.” The minute he blurts the words out, Jared wants to curse his nervous tongue. Jensen’s long lashes blink, those green-gold eyes watching curiously as Jared reaches up and ruffles the ends of his too-long hair. “I mean, I saw you. In here. You know.”  
  
“Look, I don’t want this to be weird, okay?” And now Jensen’s watching him with some emotion Jared’s just too far gone to try and identify. “What I said on the phone…I really want to try to make this work, Jay…Jared.”  
  
Jared doesn’t even address the slip or Jensen’s attempt at correcting it, too caught up in a wave of regret over hearing words from Jensen’s lips that he’d’ve given _anything_ to hear a few months ago. When it comes, his voice seems choked to his own ears: “Yeah, I…I wanna make it work, too.”  
  
Jensen’s gaze is like a hot brand across his skin. “It doesn’t have to be weird.” _I can be good._  
  
Jared blinks, wondering if he’d actually heard that last bit, or just imagined it. “I uh, that’s-that’s good. I mean, I don’t…want it to be weird. Either.”  
  
There’s a split-second’s pause, as if Jensen’s waiting for something more. Then he sits back, a smile tilting his lips. “Then it won’t be.” He takes a sip of coffee, eyeing Jared over the rim before licking away a drop of foam. Jared’s gaze falls helplessly. “We’ll just do our best together, for the show. We owe it to everyone involved. And we’ll just…put everything else behind us.”  
  
Jared’s smile is even less enthused than his heart. “Great. Sounds great.”  
  
“Great.” Jensen sets his cup down, folds his hands on top of the table and leans forward. “So, now that that’s out of the way, I gotta tell you man…you’re gonna have to step it up a notch. Get some muscle on those bones. Sam looks like he could get knocked over by a cool breeze in those dailies.”  
  
Jared stares for a second, then lets out a sound that’s a cross between a laugh and a curse. “ _What?_ ”  
  
“I’m just sayin’.” Jensen spreads both hands out, palms up, a smirk coloring too-pretty features. Not that Jared’s thinking of him Like That anymore. “You’re a tall guy. You gotta bulk it up…skinny-ass.”  
  
“Dude, I could take you down so fast it’d make your head spin.” Jared doesn’t even recognize the moment he relaxes, reaching out and grabbing for his coffee and taking a quick, scalding gulp. “I _let_ you act badass because it’s in the _script_. I’m the sweet, sensitive one.”  
  
“Likely story. I think you’re just the scrawny one.”  
  
“Sure, hide behind your macho jacket and guns.” Jared waves his hand. “Take ‘em away, and what’s Dean got left?”  
  
“A sparkling wit and kickass boots?” Jensen’s teeth flash again, and Jared hears the scrape of his chair as he tugs it over closer.  
  
“Aw fuck, was that _wit?_ Huh. I was thinkin’ it was just fucking _shi_ \--”  
  
“Sam doesn’t have a very collegiate vocabulary, does he?”  
  
“Dean molests his _car_.”  
  
“That car is hotter than most women in Hollywood,” Jensen protests, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “Don’t talk about my baby like that.”  
  
Jared snorts, taking another long sip and feeling the blood-quickening effects of the caffeine. “Okay, are we actually in character _now?_ ”  
  
Jensen rubs his chin, pretending to ponder something meaningful. And then, “I dunno…are you ready to roll over for big brother’s right hand?”  
  
Jared’s right up in Jensen’s face before he can even think better of it, taking in Jensen’s sly grin with a mock-glare. “Sam could totally take Dean in hand-to-hand combat!” He emphasizes what he's saying with wild gestures that only make Jensen laugh harder – at least, until Jared’s flailing limb catches him smack dab in the eye.  
  
Jared’s amusement quickly fades, and he’s got both hands on Jensen’s face before he can blink. “Oh, shit, Jen…I’m sorry man, I…”  
  
“S’okay.” Jensen’s voice is husky and low, his grip on Jared’s wrist tight when he reaches up and closes his fingers around flannel and flesh. “Jared, really, it’s fine.” He lets out another laugh, looking up at Jared from under his lashes. “Guess you showed me, huh?”  
  
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Jared mumbles, flushing head-to-toe as he realizes his mouth is close enough to Jensen’s to almost taste the gingerbread latte flavoring Jensen’s tongue. He’s practically in Jensen’s goddamned _lap_ , and by no one’s fault but his own.  
  
It’d just felt so _normal_ for a minute there, flirting and talking with Jensen, and at the same time it’d felt completely different. It’s then, maybe, that Jared realizes that he and Jensen might’ve sucked and fucked each other’s brains out for months, but they’d never actually been friends.  
  
It’s a bit of a letdown to realize that might’ve been the problem all along.  
  
Jensen’s licking his lips, eyes heavy and unfocused and maybe even a little panicked as he leans closer to Jared, the dim lighting ricocheting off of the burnished tips of his hair. “Jared…” he starts, sounding unsure, and Jared wants nothing more than to soothe that fear in his eyes.  
  
“…goddamn it,” Jared mutters, going tense, every muscle stiff and aching. His eyes flick toward the door, jaw twitching with self-disgust. “I oughta go.”  
  
“Jared, wait.” Jensen doesn’t touch him, or try to restrain him with anything more than the break in his voice. “Please. Just…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”  
  
“I know.” Jared meets his gaze again, offering a small smile. “I’m not blaming you, Jensen. Maybe it’d be easier to…hell, I don’t know.”  
  
“I meant what I said.” Jensen’s voice is by turns aggressive and sincere, all within the span of a few seconds. “We can put it behind us, we can—”  
  
“I don’t know if I’m ready to do that.” It’s the closest to the truth that he’s admitted, even to himself, or maybe _especially_ to himself. But with Jensen staring at him from across a small table in some little known coffeeshop, Jared can’t think of a lie suited for the occasion.  
  
“I just wanna be friends,” Jensen says, a soft flutter of breath and a plea. “I just. I wanna make it better, Jared. I don’t want you to hate me or—”  
  
Jared rubs his eyes, laughing without humor. “Christ, Jensen I don’t _hate_ you.”  
  
“Yeah, but you don’t like me, either.” It’s not a question, and judging by the shaky curve to Jensen’s lips, he doesn’t mean for it to be. “But you don’t know me, and you never really did. That’s all I want, man. I just want you to get a chance to know _me._ ”  
  
That’s a bit of a slap in the face, even though Jared knows Jensen’s not trying to make it one. To know, to hear it said point blank that as much as he gave of himself…Jensen never really did. It burns somewhere deep down inside, and has him countering perversely, “I know you.”  
  
Jensen’s head shake is sad, his voice a quiet thrum of apology. “No, you _really_ don’t.”  
  
And this would be the moment where Jared can give up. Just walk out, check out, forget every promise he’d made to himself about Sam or _Supernatural_ or his own personal fucking well-being. There’s every chance Jensen’s jerking him around – although to what end, he has no idea – but Jared’s always been accused of being too damned nice. Too damned forgiving. Thing is…   
  
He’s in love with the son of a bitch and he’s too damned stupid to change.  
  
So he meets Jensen’s hopeful expression head-on and hears the metaphorical door open somewhere when he says, “All right. Then show me.”


End file.
